


a taste of your heart

by Acacius



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: (aka first half written from guillermo's pov & the second half is from nandor's), Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood Drinking, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, POV Third Person Limited, Post-Season/Series 02, i am once again taking this silly vampire show much too seriously, it's my b-day & i get to write fics with the tropes i wanna see lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25361569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acacius/pseuds/Acacius
Summary: Guillermo notices an abrupt change in Nandor's personality after the events of the theatre and it all comes into startling clarity for him one night as he sits in his room reading, unaware of the tendrils of mist that creep underneath his door.
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Comments: 12
Kudos: 109





	a taste of your heart

**Author's Note:**

> [clanging pots & pans together] yeah i'm just writing self-indulgent fics now... oops ^^; this was written from 3am-6am so apologies for any changes in tense, grammatical errors, and/or other writerly mistakes. i'll hopefully come back & edit this more but for now lets pretend those issues don't exist xoxo

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Guillermo, engrossed in one of the rare books Nandor had allowed him to read from his personal collection, does not notice the near-invisible curtain of mist that creeps in underneath the door to his room. The grey fog swirls tepidly at his feet as Guillermo turns the page of the heavy, leather-bound tome, smiling briefly at some hastily scribbled note Nandor had made in the margins. He shivers, a sudden chill overtaking him despite the thick green sweater he wears over his usual white button-up. He is unaware of the tendrils of mist that seemingly cling to his form, climbing up his torso in a serpentine, graceful manner.

_“Guillermo…”_

The ex-familiar startles at the low, whispering voice that seemingly calls him by name, the book dropping from his lap with a loud thud. He gets to his feet a moment later, fingers inching closer to the metal chain around his neck on reflex.

“W-who’s there?” he asks warily, wondering briefly if some lost spirit lured in by Nadja’s séance had mistakenly clung to the mortal coil long after she had closed the door to the true world of the dead.

There is only the barest creak of the floorboards before Guillermo feels someone behind him, a pair of arms encircling his waist in an iron-like grip. Before he can even so much as yell, he is being whisked from his room in a fireman’s carry, the ground underneath him blurring until he is dropped into a familiar fur-lined coffin.

It is then that he sees his would-be assailant for the first time, the vampire’s pallid face appearing from the shadowed corner and into the light of the many candles scattered about the room.

“Nandor? What’s going on—“

His voice dies in his throat as Nandor—perhaps the only vampire he trusted with his life—pushes him further into the coffin, dark eyes glazed with hunger. Nandor had _never_ looked at him like this. Not even in the beginning, when Guillermo had been a nervous, witless human familiar just trying to survive in a house full of vampires. Not even when he had recklessly cut his hand on the jutting blade of a box cutter just shy of two weeks of working for Nandor. They hadn’t even established much of a relationship back then, just Guillermo scurrying after Nandor like a little field mouse trailing after a particularly accommodating lion.

He had honestly expected to be eaten that very moment, had felt the first sting of tears at the thought he’d given up everything to be a vampire—his friends, his family, his job at Panera, his online schooling—only to die just as he started his role as a familiar.

Instead, in what would be the first rare moment where Nandor seemed to show genuine affection for him, the vampire had simply reached over to pat his head, his large hand awkwardly brushing through Guillermo’s dark curls.

 _“There, there, Guillermo,”_ he had said much like a parent placating their sniffling child. “It’s just a little boo-boo. No need to cry.”

Later, the vampire had even presented him with a band-aid, Nandor’s face brightening as he explained that he had gotten a box of Hello-Kitty band-aids for free from the _Wallow-Greens_ down the street.

Guillermo wished he could go back to that time, to the Nandor who, despite his inflated ego and tendency to speak without forethought, did go about showing how much he cared in little unsuspecting ways. That was the vampire he had chosen to save in the theatre, the one whose acts of kindness always outweighed the frigid, barbed façade he so often hid behind like a suit of armor.

Here, trapped underneath the vampire, there wasn’t even a sliver of recognition in Nandor’s gaze, no warmth or affection to be found—no sign of the man whose bedtime routine even after Guillermo stepped down from his role as a familiar included asking him to hold his hand as he stepped into his coffin. The first real tendrils of fear began to grip Guillermo as Nandor pressed in closer, one hand splayed over his left shoulder while the other pulled at the collar of his shirt, tugging the material down to expose the frantic beat of his pulse.

“Nandor, _stop_ ,” Guillermo pleaded, eyes shining with unshed tears. “This isn’t you.”

If the vampire heard him or even understood what he said, he didn’t show it. His face dropped to the column of Guillermo’s neck, Nandor’s cold breath fanning against him. Guillermo shivered at the sensation, gooseflesh rising in the wake of where Nandor’s lips had touched, skimming his skin with a rumbling growl.

“…It’s me, Guillermo,” he tried again, hesitantly reaching to stroke the back of Nandor’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. Nandor only nestled closer to him, the pinprick of fangs eliciting a startled gasp from Guillermo. His voice shook as he spoke. “ _Please_. Not like this. Not when I would have given you everything—my blood, my heart, my life, all of me—if you had just asked.”

There is a heartbreakingly long moment of silence as Guillermo held his breath, eyes squeezing shut. Then, suddenly, Guillermo feels Nandor pull away, something like a strangled hiss coming out of the vampire’s clenched teeth.

“Nandor…?” Guillermo asks, opening his eyes to see the look of utter horror on Nandor’s face. It’s as if all color had drained from the vampire’s face, leaving him looking akin to a despondent, ashen corpse. Even his eyes looked hollow, so unlike their usual warmness and gentle mirth.

“I… I’m sorry, Guillermo,” Nandor begins, voice wavering. “I-I don’t know what came over me. I wanted to visit you in your room but then, suddenly, I wasn’t in control of myself… I didn’t realize that it was even _you_ until it was almost too late.”

All at once, everything falls into place with Nandor’s confession. Guillermo had noticed a change in the vampire since he had returned to the house, had seen him looking more morose and quiet, eyeing Guillermo with what he had originally thought was wariness. It had stung, thinking that their relationship would never recover, that he could no longer be by Nandor’s side. In fact, he had thought that his company was no longer something the vampire wanted as Nandor would often bristle and say some barbed comment before stomping out of the room. But it wasn’t—Nandor was _hungry_. The prolonged moments where it seemed like Nandor had drifted off, so lost in thought that even Nadja and Laszlo had to call Nandor’s name multiple times to get his attention or the sudden fits of rage that ended with the vampire slinking back into his coffin with a slam of the lid… it all made sense now.

“Why haven’t you been eating?” Guillermo asks pointedly, expression severe. There was no point beating around the bush now that Nandor had almost sunk his teeth into him without explanation. 

Nandor grimaces. “I haven’t had much of an appetite lately. You know I only drink virgin blood, Guillermo, and without you as a familiar, how am I supposed to get it?”

“Nadja and Laszlo seem to be doing just fine on their own.” Guillermo points out, folding his arms over his chest, nearly bumping against the vampire who remained stoically poised above him. It is only then that Guillermo realizes that they are still having this conversation inside Nandor’s coffin, neither attempting to untangle from the other. Something in his heart flutters at the realization, a small sprig of hope that maybe, just maybe, Nandor could feel something for him too—something beyond their odd dance as vampire and ex-familiar turned vampire hunter.

Nandor makes a noise in the back of his throat as he looks away, no longer meeting Guillermo’s questioning gaze. “Don’t make me say it aloud… it is embarrassing enough that I went and attacked you.”

Guillermo tries again, undeterred. “Nandor, come on. I want to know so I can help. What’s wrong?”

Nandor’s lips suddenly curl into a cruel sneer. “What’s wrong? You left me _again_ and I didn’t know what to do! I missed you! Did you even miss me? Or were you too busy with your new vampire hunter friends? How could I eat when all I could think about was whether you ever even liked me at all… or if it wasn’t all some ploy to eventually kill me, _vampire killer_.”

Guillermo doesn’t rise to the provocation even though being called a vampire killer by Nandor with such vitriol still stung.

“I left because I was scared, okay? I thought I might hurt you or Nadja or Laszlo. Well, mostly Laszlo, but still… I was dangerous. I needed to leave to figure myself out. And now that I’ve come to terms with my heritage, I came back. I didn’t want to leave, but it was for your own good.” Guillermo confesses, the harsh sting of tears prickling at his eyes. It had hurt, leaving them. It felt like he had left a chunk of his heart with them when he moved back to his mom’s apartment. They were one big dysfunctional family when all was said and done and Guillermo had immediately missed them.

Nandor absorbs Guillermo’s words, an unusually serious expression flickering across his face. With a sigh, Nandor bowed his head, his curtain of dark hair tickling Guillermo’s neck. “So there’s no need for me to be more aloof with you, is there?”

Guillermo almost laughs at the innocent way Nandor poses the question, obviously serious despite how silly the statement was. “No. Please don’t be aloof. Be the opposite of aloof.”

A gentle silence passes between them before the vampire tilts his head, a question brewing on the tip of his tongue.

“I am curious… why didn’t you,” Nandor pauses, rather crudely pantomiming a stake thrusting into his heart. “Stab me? You would have been justified in doing so. I’ve seen how easily you kill vampires—I wouldn’t have stood a chance in my state.”

A nervous bubble of laughter erupts from his throat before he can stop himself. Even after everything he’d done for Nandor, the vampire still doubted his loyalty?

“I could never hurt you,” Guillermo admits. He takes in a shaky breath, steeling his nerves. The words that do slip past his lips are completely different from what he meant to say—they are achingly bare in their sincerity, as honest as he’d ever been with Nandor when it came to his own feelings. “I love you too much to do that.”

In the silence that followed, Nandor’s gaze grew dark—but it wasn’t just hunger in his eyes. He held Guillermo’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, crowding in closer as he grinned. To Guillermo, he had never looked more captivating. There was an openness to his expression that hadn’t existed before, as if he was really seeing Nandor for first time without his usual armor of barbed threats and haughty remarks. Underneath it all was the vampire he had fallen in love with—the one who Guillermo had willingly devoted his life to.

“So was it true, Guillermo? What you said earlier… you would give me everything if I asked for it?”

Guillermo nods, a blush creeping up his face despite himself.

“And this isn’t some joke? You are not doing the leg-pulling?”

He nods again, too afraid to speak up, as if doing so would break whatever spell that had been cast between them.

“Well…” Nandor begins, gaze drifting from Guillermo’s eyes to his lips. “I think I would like a taste of your heart first.”

“It’s yours. It has always been yours.” Guillermo replies and it’s all the confirmation that Nandor needs to take what he wants.

The vampire surges forward in a greedy, all-consuming kiss that nearly knocks the breath out of Guillermo. Years of pent-up emotion come bubbling to the surface as Nandor allows himself what he had only fantasized in his head. Somehow, it’s better than anything he could have conjured up, the press of their lips and bodies sparking a wildfire in his veins, the blood flowing underneath Guillermo’s skin nowhere near as tempting as the taste of his lips or the feeling of his hands roaming at his sides.

He had forgotten how warm humans were, and perhaps it was specific only to Guillermo, but he couldn’t remember the last time he had a partner as receptive as him. Every touch, every kiss, every simple brush of his hand seemed to elicit a moan of pleasure. Not that Nandor was fairing much better. As tentative and hesitant as Guillermo’s touches were, they still stirred something ancient within him, a feeling he could no longer deny as anything else but love. He could have spent decades exploring every inch of him, committing every dip and freckle on his skin to memory, but he felt the sudden, sharp burn of hunger once again as he ran his lips across Guillermo’s throat, teasingly nipping at his flesh.

“Delicious,” Nandor uttered, fangs exposed as he eventually pulled away. He pressed a steadying hand to Guillermo’s face, thumb stroking the skin above his cheekbone with something akin to devotion, relishing the feeling of Guillermo’s warm, soft skin. When he speaks again, his voice is low and deep, a rumble in his chest. “And what of your blood? May I have it as well?”

“Always,” Guillermo says, no hesitation or fear in his voice. It is simply a statement of fact and it warms something that had previously been cold and unyielding in Nandor’s heart. He feels as if he could melt under Guillermo’s attention, under the weight of knowing now, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was loved. The knowledge that Guillermo’s continued acts of devotion were done simply to show his affection for him stirs a fierce thrum of protectiveness as he gazes at Guillermo beneath him, heart bared, head tipped to the side in an unwavering show of trust.

For a brief moment, he wants to reach up and close the coffin, to wrap Guillermo up in his arms in the darkness, keep him safe in the shadows even as the night bled away into the morning—to shelter him in the familiar safety of his coffin forever. But he knows better. Guillermo could protect himself; he very rarely needed to be rescued, his own innate prowess proving itself at the theatre, proving that there had always been a fierce warrior inside him. If anything, it would be a disservice for him to coddle Guillermo like he wanted to—a sort of selfishness that not even Nandor could justify.

Instead, the vampire hums approvingly, pulling Guillermo into another drawn-out kiss, this time tugging gently on his bottom lip with his fangs, eliciting a soft moan from the man. Nandor drinks up the sound, trailing a line of kisses from his mouth to his jaw, unable to contain his own groan of pleasure as he dips his head to Guillermo’s throat. The desire to sink his teeth into the fragile network of vasculature is nearly overwhelming now that he has the explicit permission to do so and Nandor feels his otherwise precise measure of control begin to slip with every beat of Guillermo’s heart.

“ _Please_ ,” Guillermo nearly whines, hands blindly fisting into the brocade fabric at Nandor’s back. The thought that Guillermo wants this—needs this—just as much as he did sent a rush of desire through his very core.

This is completely different from before—Nandor isn’t being controlled by his hunger like some mindless marionette. There is care and devotion in the way he presses his lips against Guillermo’s fluttering pulse, running a soothing hand through his dark, curly hair as he relishes in the scent and softness that had tempted him for over a decade. Nandor scrapes his fangs teasingly against Guillermo’s skin, a low rumble of contentment escaping him at the way Guillermo arches into him rather than trying to scramble away. It had been centuries since he had gotten a human to willingly bare their neck to him and Nandor had forgotten just how good it felt to be able to drink blood that was freely given.

When Nandor finally lets his teeth sink into Guillermo’s flesh, he is surprised by what he feels thrumming through the bond between them. It was rare, but emotions could be felt through blood and the vampire was immediately hit with a wave of love so strong that he almost pulled away out of shock. There was knowing on a psychological level that someone loved you and then there was feeling it as that love became a part of you, nourished you, enveloped you in a warmth that reminded you of the way sunlight once touched your skin.

In short, his blood tasted nothing like he expected—it was infinitely better. He’d drank from virgins plenty of times before, but no virgin had ever tasted so sweet and warm. It had been so difficult to resist at first, back when he had originally made Guillermo his familiar. From the beginning he had always felt a pull to Guillermo’s blood as if it were a siren’s call and he was nothing but a hapless sailor lost at sea. His voracious eating habits to make up for being surrounded every day by temptation often outweighed Laszlo and Nadja combined which is why he very rarely skimmed out on meals. Half-drunk humans were unhygienic, that was true, but they were also a waste that Nandor couldn’t afford if he wanted to keep Guillermo at his side. Until now, Guillermo’s blood had only been a fantasy, a thought he indulged in rather guiltily as he drifted off to sleep, a roaring hunger that he’d kept dutifully under lock-and-key in his waking hours—until today when he pushed his body past its natural ability to cope with his physiological needs.

Guillermo clutches to him with a whimper and Nandor tugs him as close to his chest as he physically can without crushing him, his world narrowing only to the feeling of Guillermo in his arms, to the feeling of his blood running down his throat, to the feeling and sound of his heartbeat crooning its steady, familiar song. It’s a comfort and an anchor all at once, reminding him of just who he was drinking from. He knows he should stop soon before he drank more than Guillermo’s body could reasonably replace—and blood freely given was a precious gift, every vampire knew that on an instinctual level—so Nandor, with a gentleness that even surprised himself, pulls his fangs out with a sigh. He had never felt so content after a feeding before.

Guillermo startles at the touch of his tongue to the bite marks as he licks away the few drops of blood that trickle from the wound. Eventually, the blood clots and Nandor pulls away, fingers brushing tentatively against the twin pinpricks. Guillermo shivers at the feather-light touch, eyes still squeezed shut, arms now lax around Nandor’s shoulders.

“Guillermo? Are you alright?” Nandor asks, concern slinking into his voice. He gently tilts his face towards him, scanning his features for any sign of pain.

At the sound of his name, Guillermo slowly opens his eyes, lips curling into a tired smile. “S’okay… I’m okay. Just sleepy. Didn’t think it would feel… feel like that.”

“Painful?” Nandor supplies, suddenly guilty. He had been so wrapped up in his own pleasure that he hadn’t even thought about the pain Guillermo must have felt while he fed.

Guillermo’s cheeks redden as he speaks. “N-no. It was… really nice. I felt… safe. It barely hurt.”

Nandor feels his body relax, tension leaving his shoulders. A sudden wave of lethargy overtakes him a moment later and it’s only at the last minute that he remembers to keep enough distance so as to not crush the man underneath him, opting to press his forehead against Guillermo’s, dark eyes twinkling with obvious affection. “You really scared me, Guillermo. I thought I had taken too much.”

“M’sorry, Nandor,” he replies, his warm breath tickling the vampire’s cheek.

Nandor presses a quick kiss to Guillermo’s forehead, smiling softly. “There’s no need to apologize.”

Remembering faintly of a conversation he had with Guillermo about blood donating when they had entertained the notion of getting blood packs from blood drives as something to store in case of an emergency, Nandor slips out of the coffin in a rush, letting Guillermo know he’ll be right back. A few minutes later he returns from the kitchen with a glass of water and some kind of wrapped confectionary—a brownie, he thinks it’s called. He hands Guillermo the glass of water first, helping him sit up in the coffin and waits patiently for him to drink the whole glass. The brownie disappears just as quickly and Nandor puts the glass and plastic wrapper onto a nearby side table to be cleaned up later. While up and out of the coffin, Nandor blows out all the candles and double-checks the curtains to make sure they’re fixed securely over the windows.

“You should rest, Guillermo,” Nandor says, dark eyes trailing over the bite wound yet again. He felt a strange sort of thrill knowing that Guillermo’s usual button-up shirts would be unable to hide the mark. He cared very little for what Nadja or Laszlo would think of his and Guillermo’s budding relationship, but he did want them to know that Guillermo was still very much off-limits. Guillermo had shared his blood with _only_ him and if either vampire housemate made a fuss, he would be there to remind them that Guillermo, while no longer his familiar, would still be protected by him.

Not that he needed to be protected, but Nandor felt a surge of pride imagining his housemates’ faces when they realized who had drank from him. Guillermo, a vampire hunter whose ancestry involved _the_ Van Helsing of legend, the equivalent of the boogeyman for vampires, had let only Nandor drink from him in a show of trust so genuine and true that it had left an almost bittersweet ache in his undead heart.

Before Guillermo could begin to rise from the coffin, Nandor was beside him with a grin, slowly shaking his head as he took Guillermo’s glasses off and placed them to the side. In a flurry of movement, the vampire had effectively switched their positions, Guillermo now tucked against his chest while Nandor laid beneath him in the coffin, fingers already drifting into his hair.

“It’s time to sleep,” Nandor rumbled, sated and content.

Guillermo relaxed into his hold, nuzzling into the crook of Nandor’s neck as the vampire closed his eyes, savoring the moment.

“Goodnight, Nandor,” Guillermo says, exhaustion creeping into his tone as he placed a soft kiss against Nandor’s neck.

Nandor smiles at the warm touch of his lips. “Goodnight, Guillermo.”

Long after the pair drifts to sleep, the door to the room creaks open. Colin Robinson peaks his head in, eyes widening in surprise before he steps back into the hall, softly closing the door behind him.

He smiles at the cameras, pointing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Nandor’s room as he winks. “Finally. Those two have been dancing around each other for a literal decade now. Don’t get me wrong, the tension between them was delicious to feed on, but as Nandor’s friend, I really wanted them to get together, y’know? Like I said, vampire roommates are forever… and I want Nandor to be happy.”

The camera crew exchange a look.

“What? Did you guys not pick up on all that sexual tension? I could practically taste it because, well, energy vampire and all.” He pauses, a more mischievous grin flittering across his face. “I cannot wait to feed on their frustrated romantic energy. I’ll be walking in on them _all_ the time. But not today. They deserve at least one day of peace. They’re currently in the eye of the ol’ Colinator hurricane, if you will.”

With that, Colin Robinson walked out of frame, likely skipping off to get his ‘morning coffee’ from Nadja and Laszlo instead. The camera crew watched on in sympathy.

**Author's Note:**

> hope y’all enjoyed :3c come say hi on tumblr @nandoor if u feel so inclined! would love to have ppl to chat w/ abt this show~
> 
> oh & now for some fun science facts abt blood bc who doesn’t love fun science facts? sorry if this seems like a colin robinson impression but i swear it’s not lmaoo
> 
> • red blood cells shed their mitochondria & other organelles once they reach maturity so they are no longer able to rely on oxidative phosphorylation (an aerobic—aka O2-requiring metabolic process that happens in the mitochondrion) for energy, instead using anaerobic glycolysis (lactic acid fermentation—just like bacteria do!!). this is mostly because RBCs are nutrient/O2 shuttles & it wouldn’t do humans any good if the O2 was used up before it reached its destination in the body. 
> 
> • liquid portion of blood is separated into serum & plasma. serum is a clear liquid that is often used in clinical settings bc it doesn’t have any of the clotting factors/proteins like plasma does. the cellular portion of blood is broken down into 3 categories: erythrocytes (aka red blood cells), leukocytes (white blood cells), and platelets. at risk of sounding like a textbook, the takeaway is that the cellular portion of blood is v important & we’d be very dead without it! 
> 
> • the avg lifespan/turnover rate of a RBC is ~120 days before being phagocytized by macrophages. there’s lots of variability here of course, but it’s a nice little number to have in ur pocket if u work with blood at all like i do 
> 
> • bruising is almost primarily a result of injured capillaries. capillaries are very small/thin-walled & fragile so blood pools in these areas often after blunt-force injury… try & be kind to ur capillaries they r doing their best to act as a bridge between ur arterioles & venules ;v; 
> 
> • oxygenated blood is carried almost exclusively thru arteries (exceptions being umbilical veins and pulmonary veins). & O2 is required for most metabolic processes that give ur cells energy to work (i.e., keeping u alive). so i think vampires would go for arteries 100% of the time bc they’ve got all that good ol’ O2 and nutrients that you’d want/need if ur diet was uhh very liquid, for lack of a better term


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